Pols, Parades, & Pets

When it comes to politics, I can sometimes seem a little... let's
see, what's the right word... cynical? Critical? Sarcastic? Harsh?
Snarky? Obnoxious? Disdainful? Probably all of the above.

So I
imagine that many of you assume I'm being somehow mean-spirited when I
tweet pictures of politicians marching in parades, or when I create a
tumblr of pictures of Massachusetts politicians with animals, or other cases in which I express apparent enjoyment of the simple, prosaic, somewhat goofy aspects of American politics.

And if you'll indulge me,
I'd like to give a lengthy and overly intellectual explanation for my
great pleasure in these aspects of American politics, in the hopes that
some of you may share in it.

So let's go back to the
Constitutional Convention of 1787, where 55 men fashioned a new
framework for governing the country. They faced a range of nearly
impossible conunudrums in creating something that they -- and the
ratifying state conventions -- could agree upon and that actually had a
chance of working.

To all that, as I see it, they added a purely
elective degree of difficulty: they wanted this new government to
actually manifest the quite radical concept of popular sovereignty --
what Lincoln would memorably describe as government of the people, by
the people, for the people. This was an intellectual, philosophical goal
that the framers by and large believed ran counter to the likelihood of
good government. They believed, quite strongly, that the business of
government should be in the hands of an elite class of sophisticates
like themselves, insulated from the whims and passions of the poorly
educated, self-interested, short-sighted, easily swayed,
self-contradicting, prejudiced, unsophisticated general populace.

Yet
they decided that the principle of popular sovereignty was so
important, they were willing to accept worse governance as a cost of
including it in a real, meaningful way. To me, this is the great
American democratic experiment, that we continue to test out in practice
today -- and in which I am a huge, true-blue, deep-down believer.

The
framers hedged their bets on popular sovereignty in every way possible.
One of the big hedges (which is also a hedge against various other
concerns) is the insanely divided and cross-purposed government, which
forces slow, conciliatory progress, and thus prevents bad governance by,
in effect, preventing almost any governance.

But the framers also
severely limited the direct expression of popular sovereignty (not even
including the limitations they assumed would be placed on which
portions of "the people" could actually participate).

In the end,
they allowed the citizenry to directly choose only their representatives
in the lower house of one branch of the federal government.

The
other legislative chamber -- the important one, in their minds, which
could ratify treaties, confirm appointments, and remove Presidents and
other officials through conviction of an impeachment -- would be chosen
by state legislatures.

It's particularly telling, to me, that they didn't even consider
letting the sovereign, self-governing people choose Senators directly,
at least according to Madison's letter to Jefferson describing the
debate:

In forming the Senate, the great anchor of the Government,
the questions as they came within the first object
turned mostly on the mode of appointment, and the duration
of it. The different modes proposed were, 1. by the
House of Representatives 2. by the Executive, 3. by electors
chosen by the people for the purpose. 4. by the State
Legislatures.

They chose option 4, but you'll notice that popular elections weren't even proposed.

The framers similarly attempted to shield the executive branch from popular vote, through the third option on that list; they genuinely intended for people to choose wise elite
electors, who in turn would choose the President. (And -- unlike most
current state governments, where voters elect Attorneys General,
Secretaries of State, Treasurers, and some other executive personnel --
the entire executive branch is selected by the President, with advice
and consent from the Senate.) The judicial branch of course is almost
completely shielded from popular whim, with "the people" left out of the
direct process of choosing federal judges, who need never worry about earning new terms.

In addition, the framers made it nearly impossible for anyone outside
of the federal government to actually affect federal laws -- there is
no popular referendum or initiative process, and the path to amending
the Constitution without Congress's help is so unwieldy it has not once
been accomplished.

All of this ancient history is to say that this
great American democratic experiment of constitutional government of,
for, and by the people was considered a really, really, iffy prospect,
even by the boldest thinkers of the time. Yet, they were willing to
concede the likelihood of worse governance in exchange for the principle.

And
it has worked out so well, that we have been able, over the course of
American history, to cast many of the framers' obstacles to genuine
self-government aside -- essentially, to keep upping and upping our bet
on this principle of popular sovereignty. Presidential electors very
quickly became a mostly irrelevant formality. A Constitutional amendment
gave the electorate the power to directly elect their Senators. And the
franchise has been expanded to an ever-greater portion of the
populace.

The downside of this progression has been that our government,
rather than being insulated from, is largely guided by the whims and
passions of the poorly educated,
self-interested, short-sighted, easily swayed, self-contradicting,
prejudiced, unsophisticated general populace.

And it shows. But, being a true-blue deep-down believer in the great American democratic experiment, I think it's worth it.

Why? What do we get in return that makes it worth the nonsense?

We get the knowledge that it's truly our government, our country, in a way that you just can't have without meaningful popular sovereignty.

And
how is that knowledge expressed? Through reminders that our politicians are
not an isolated elite class of lords off in their manors, insulated from the citizenry. They have to come shake hands at the subway station. They have
to chat up potential volunteers in living rooms. They have to come to
little league games. They have to cut ceremonial ribbons with giant
novelty scissors when a shop opens in the community. They have to judge
pumpkins and eat cheese fries at the county fair. They have to tour the
local economy-driving businesses and attractions, and sometimes that
means they have to touch a hedgehog at the Worcester Ecotarium. And they
sure as hell have to walk in the local parade, preferably holding a
miniature American flag, and smile and wave at every one of us along the
route.

More broadly, in this process of representing a voting
public, politicians have to let us into their lives a little bit. We get
to find out, through all of the above, that some of them really love
dogs and some don't. We might get a glimpse of how they relate to children,
or what kind of books they enjoy, or what song they would choose for
WFNX my-song-vs-your-song, and all of that stuff that ultimately
reassures us, at some level, that our political figures are actual real
people chosen from among us to hold that office.

That's all symbolism, but it's important symbolism, at least to me. And I choose to celebrate it, with gusto.

I also choose to insult those same politicians mercilessly for the idiocy they do, whether in deference to, or in betrayal of, the poorly educated,
self-interested, short-sighted, easily swayed, self-contradicting,
prejudiced, unsophisticated general populace. I don't see any reason I shouldn't do both.